Metal Gear Solid: Antipathy
by Regas 27
Summary: A terrorist group known only to Philanthropy as Antipathy has all but started a war- and when word of a new metal gear is confirmed, Snake and his new cohort find themselves in the middle of all of it. Their new mission is simple: destroy the metal gear.


**Metal Gear Solid: Antipathy**

_A/N: My first attempt into the MGS fandom here on Fanfiction, though I've been a fan of the games for years:] they're pretty awesome. Metal Gear FTW!_

_-This is Solid Snake guys :), somewhere shortly after Metal Gear RAY._

_-It starts a bit slow, and I apologize for that but it's because I'm setting you guys up for one hell of a Fanfic :)_

**~xxx- Chapter 1: _Contact –_xxx~**

The steady roar of the plane engine kept the man from falling asleep as he sat against the window staring out over a shadow-covered nation below them. The moon offered little light, but what he could see, he didn't like.

"Snake?"

The man turned his head, "Yeah?"

"Thirty minutes to drop-off."

Snake couldn't decide whether or not he liked this man; Carlyle Locard. He usually kept to himself, except when briefing and Otacon seemed to like him, but something about him made Snake stay on his toes. He was the son of the heiress to a major weapon development company is Asia Minor. Having been raised by his father, he had little to do with his mother until he was fourteen, and that's all Snake was able to weasel out of him before he clammed up.

"Let's go over this again," Snake cleared his throat, "I'm being dropped in the border area of Belarus and am to meet up with my contact in three days and then move to the outer region of North Ukraine. Once there, you'll pick us up and drop us off in the middle of Russia."

Carlyle nodded, "That sounds about right. Contact profile is in your bag. Her name is Arisa Graham, she be operating under the code name Black Widow."

"Her? ...wait, where's Otacon?"

"He's working on your launch trajectory. That's beside the point; Arisa, Widow, is the best of the best, Snake. She good at what she does and fits the cooperative you need." He could see Snake's hesitancy, "Just look at her file when you land, alright?"

"Sure."

"You'll thank me later for choosing her."

"I'm sure I will." He didn't bother hiding the sarcastic undertone that carried the words.

Both men perked up as the pilot's voice came through the intercom, the man's accent thick and Portuguese. "Drop in fifteen."

Snake turned back to the window and stared out over the barren, dark landscape. "Is she good with a gun?"

"Perhaps you've heard of the Bloodhound?"

Snake's head jerked, "You mean Haden Graham?"

Haden Graham was a revolutionary gunman with an unmistakable perfect shot. With skill enough to shoot accurately and ambiguously, he'd picked up the moniker of Bloodhound when he'd taken out an entire platoon of Soviet soldiers by himself a Russian laboratory during the Cold War.

Carlyle smiled at Snake and shook his head, "She's his daughter. She sometimes referred to as the Puppy. I'm surprised you didn't make the connection sooner. A little more reassured now, Snake?"

"Hn."

"Just keep your head about you, okay? We don't need you blowing off some yahoo's head because you got pair with a woman on this one."

"I've worked with women before."

Carlyle laughed and ran his hand through his curly brown hair, "None like this one, I promise."

"Shut the hell up, Locard."

The not-knowing-whether-or-not-he-like-him-meter at the back of Snake's mind was tipping towards dislike.

"You jump in ten."

* * *

_**_Three Days Later_**_

* * *

Snake moved through the cobble streets easily and unnoticed, while taking in all of his surroundings. He needn't worry much about the people here; they were poor farmers and peasants barely making anything with what little crops they had.

He pressed his finger to the codec at his ear, "Carlyle?"

"_I'm here Snake. What's up?"_

"Where the hell is she? I've been through this entire village and haven't found her." Snake growled angrily, his teeth grinding.

"_Snake, have you checked the roofs?"_

"…"

"_Didn't think so."_

With an angry rumble, Snake looked around for something that could get him to the rooftops. With nothing more than a low barn with a rusted tin roof, he moved across the road and hoisted himself up with two arms. At the new height, it gave Snake a new view of the small village, but he didn't look long. He didn't have time to look. He needed to find the Bloodhound's puppy.

Moving across the tin roof with what an onlooker might describe as practiced elegance, Snake easily made his way atop the dirt houses. With nothing more than thatched straw and mud beneath his feet, he stepped carefully, keeping an eye open for the woman he was being teamed with.

He wouldn't be lying if he'd said he'd been displeased with her file. Best of the Best his ass. She was nothing more than an amateur, not the soldier her father was. Her accuracy was slightly above average, she was terrible with interrogations techniques; the only thing she could possibly have going for her from what he could stand to read (he'd tossed it at only page three) was her interest in explosives and even from what he'd read that wasn't anything to write home about.

He glanced out over the dust covered village and wondered vaguely if his contact had pussied-out on this job. He wouldn't be surprised. He tapped his fingers to his ear again, changing his frequency.

"Otacon?"

"_I'm here, Snake." _– Snake could hear Carlyle yelling in the background about him needing to open his horizons and get on the fucking roof.

"I need you to get me what ever you can on Arisa Graham."

"_Sure, but…didn't you read the profile? I selectively chose only things you'd be interested in."_

"You mean that load of shit? I burned it; I couldn't force myself to read something like that." He shook his head and looked up at the overcast sky briefly.

"_Snake, the girl is a prodigy!" _– Carlyle was laughing in the distance now. Snake made a mental note to shoot him.

"I didn't see anything special from what I read."

"…_look, I put in all that shit because you needed to know it. Anyway, while she trained, she picked up the nickname Spider- her code name is no coincidence - She can move flawlessly through a forest with minimal effort, be careful not to get caught in her web. While guns aren't her greatest advantage, and trust me she's good with a gun, she specializes in explosive mechanical engineering. You give her a leaf and a stick; she'll build you a bomb."_

Snake froze as something cold pressed against his throat before giving a light gravely chuckle. "I'll keep that spider thing in mind, Otacon." He disconnected the receiver and stood still, waiting for her to make the next move.

"So you're Solid Snake?" Her breath danced across the back of his neck.

"Black Widow." He turned his head so as to get a better look at his new comrade.

Had it not been for the cold glare in her eyes, the one that told him she was a seasoned killer, he would have dared to call her beautiful. Her skin, what he could see of it at his strained position, was a smooth white, almost alabaster; her eyes were dark brown and half-lidded giving her a relaxed look; her hair, as dark as her eyes, was braided and thrown over her left shoulder, the end of it falling just below her breast. Her cheekbones were high but smooth and rounded and her lips were thin but full; it almost made her look innocent. But her eyes gave her away.

She pulled the knife from his throat and tucked it back in the case strapped to her left thigh. She stepped back from him and tipped her head back the slightest bit, no doubt taking him in as well.

Now that he was free, Snake turned to face her, having no shame in looking her over completely. She was curvy, with a small waist and round, flared hips. For a soldier, her chest was on the larger side but not overly so. The outfit she wore was casual mission wear: pants of some sort, hers looking as if they were military issued Urban-Camo, an undershirt, hers black, and a tee over top of it, hers olive-drab. She wore a similar strap system to him, over the shoulders, across the chest and waist and where her legs met her hips.

He tipped his head looking over the light weapons she had. Some kind of handgun strapped to her right leg, mid-thigh and a knife on the same leg, strapped below her knee. The same knife she'd used against his neck was on her left. Her boots were simple and black.

"What are you carrying?" He finally asked, pointing to her gun.

She smirked and pulled it free, holding it so he could see the side. "Socom-forty-five light and laser equipped. You?" She nodded at his.

"Nine-millimeter glock seventeen. It's a little light for my tastes but it does the job." He saw something flicker across her gaze but it was gone just as soon as it appeared. "We should get going."

She nodded and holstered the weapon before waving her arm forward, "Lead the way."

**~x-x-x~**

**TBC :) **


End file.
